Wandering Through Purgatory
by dollsom
Summary: A collection of ficlets about Dean and Castiel as they make their way through Purgatory.
1. Wisps

**Summary:** This is a collection of ficlets that I wrote on tumblr, based on image prompts. Scenes of Dean and Castiel in Purgatory.  
**Characters/Ships:** Dean/Castiel.  
**Spoilers: **Season 7 finale  
**Warnings:** None yet  
**Disclaimer:** Not my property, and I make no profit from this.  
**Reviews:** Pretty please?

* * *

Dean sees them dancing through the trees, lithe women in scraps of white. One of them reaches out her hand, and Dean thinks that he would like to take her hand and join the dance; to dance through the trees and let the woman's strange music flow through his veins and never stop. Castiel is tugging at his arm, but Dean reaches for the woman anyways.

Dean blinks and the next moment the dancers are wisps of white in the distance. Cas is besides him, telling him to be more careful. Being ripped to shreds isn't the only way to die in Purgatory.


	2. The Sleeper

Dean's about to ask how far it is to the next rest stop that Cas scouted out, when the angel throws an arm out in front of him.

"Hey-" Dean starts, but is silenced by a pointed look from Cas.

Cas jerks his head, gesturing towards a shape on the ground ahead of them. As Dean's trying to make out what it is, Cas leans towards him, until his lips brush against Dean's ear.

"We don't want to wake it," he whispers.

Dean realizes what he's looking at. Fingers the size of logs. The curve of a palm, large enough to hold both him and Cas.

He doesn't mind taking the long way around.


	3. Fog

Castiel hears something and stops in his tracks. He waits, listens. Nothing.

He takes a step to continue on his way, and realizes that Dean isn't with him anymore.

Castiel turns, but there's no sign of his friend anywhere; only dense, cold fog.

He surpresses the urge to call out, that would only give away both him and Dean to the monsters. Instead, he watches and listens.

He sees dark shapes through the fog, hears the sounds of a scuffle, and runs towards it. He doesn't fly - this place drains him, as Eve did. _Save it for fighting, Cas_, Dean had said, and at the time Castiel thought it was a prudent suggestion, but now Dean _is_ fighting things, and Castiel isn't there to help him, and _I can't lose him_,_not now, not like this_.

Castiel reaches the spot where he saw the shapes, but no one is there.

"Dean!" he yells, caution giving way to fear. "Dean!"

He hears shouts and growls, but the fog disorients him, Castiel can't tell where the noises are coming from. He spins around, but it's all just pressing, suffocating whiteness, broken only by the dark pillars of tree trunks. Then he sees shadows, grappling, piling on one another. He spreads his wings, and he's there.

There's creatures all around him now, attacking one another, attacking Dean, but the fog is so thick that Castiel can't distinguish one figure from another. "Dean!" he calls again, and he thinks he hears an answering shout, but it's lost in the yelps and snarls of the monsters.

A thing with fangs and claws leaps towards him. Castiel steps out of the way, grabs the thing by the throat, and slams it into the ground. A flash of grace lights up it's face, and the soul dissolves, to re-materialize elsewhere. Nothing can die here.

Except for Dean.

"Dean!" Castiel shouts one more time. "Shut your eyes!"

It takes every ounce of power that Castiel has, but he lights up the forest, burns away the monsters, and burns away the fog.

Suddenly, supporting the weight of his vessel feels like far too much effort. Castiel collapses on the ground. He feels blood collecting in his throat.

"Cas?" he hears faintly, as if through water.

Dean Winchester's face swims into focus. He's scratched up, but in one piece. Castiel attempts to smile, but doesn't think he's very successful.

"Jesus, Cas," Dean says, out of breath and edgy. He kneels next to Castiel, trying to asses the angel's condition. "Let's never do that again."

Castiel's pretty sure he manages a smile this time. "Agreed."


	4. The Collector

It's the strange extended twilight of Purgatory when Dean and Cas stumble upon a sign of civilization. Or a cottage, anyways.

The white wash is flaking off the walls where they aren't covered in creeping plants, and the leaded windows are dark. Dean and Cas circle the exterior - there are no signs of activity.

"Well, it's not made of gingerbread," Dean says when they're standing by the front door again. "Wha'd'ya say?" He turns to Cas.

The angel just regards him seriously, and silently. Dean is reminded of how Castiel was when they first met, and he lets himself be grateful that landing in Purgatory has helped to bring that old Cas back to the surface.

"I sure wouldn't mind spending the night indoors," Dean adds.

Cas turns his stare on the cottage, as if he can see through to it's soul as he does with Dean. Slowly, he nods.

Dean nods more firmly in assent. "Alright, then." He pushes the door open.

The front room of the cottage is bare, with a stone hearth against one wall, and a door to the back. The half-light that comes through the windows is further dimmed by a thick layer of dust, but it's enough for Dean to see that whoever was there last left a pile of kindling by the fireplace.

"Sweet," Dean mutters. He considers how far his standards of what warrants a proclamation of "sweet" have fallen, walks across the room to the hearth, and starts building the fire. Castiel slowly makes his way around the room, examining the walls as if they had secrets.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Cas step into the back room. He takes his flint out of his pocket. And hears Cas's voice, urgent.

"Dean, we need to get out of here now."

And yes, Dean knows to trust Castiel's judgement by now; has to, otherwise he wouldn't have survived this long. But he's tired, and he was going to spend the night under a roof, and maybe he's annoyed.

"What is it, Cas?"

No answer.

Dean gets to his feet, sees Cas standing stock-still in the doorway to the back. He joins him. In the back is a comfortable-looking bedroom, with a brass bed, a vanity, and...

A glass display case, filled with dismembered wings of every shape and colour, all of them huge, large enough to be-

"Cas, is that- ?"

The next moment, Dean is back in the cave where he and Cas spent the previous night. The one that's still covered in warding sigils, and that he and Cas had spent all day walking away from.

"I'm sorry," says Cas, and Dean turns to find him slumped against the cave wall, blood trickling out of his nose and mouth.

Dean takes him by the arm, and helps ease Cas to the ground. "Dude, there's a reason why you don't fly me around here," he says, more worried than upset.

"I know," Cas says weakly, drained from the flight. "We needed to get somewhere safe."

"Yeah, of course." Dean thinks back to the bedroom, the display case. He shudders, and sits down next to the angel.

"Cas… were those-"

"When a bee uses it's stinger, it's entire abdomen is ripped from it's body," Cas interrupts, in that light, distracted tone of his, and for once Dean can't blame the guy for wanting to change the subject. "And it falls to the earth and dies. But it would be dead before it hit the ground, so it wouldn't remember that part."

Cas fixes his eyes on Dean, and he's either struggling to focus, or struggling to keep from focusing. It's so different from what Dean's used to. He doesn't have the vocabulary to deal with Cas like this.

But Cas is looking to him, saying, "I don't remember. I don't understand."

He's not the old Cas anymore. But he's not someone different, either.

"God made me, and I'm His, not-"

"Hey," Dean interrupts, because Cas' voice is creeping higher, and he's starting to tremble. Dean doesn't know what to say next.

But Cas is looking to him. In a way, Dean realizes, that's not entirely unfamiliar.

He places a hand on Cas' shoulder. "You've got me, okay?"

It's the only thing that Dean knows how to say.


	5. Catch

It's at times like these that Dean misses sleeping in the Impala, stretched out on the bench seat, Sam snoring in the back. Well, he's always missing the Impala, and Sam, but _especially_ at times like these.

There's no fire to keep Dean warm, no sheltering cave walls, just the boughs of a freakishly hand-like tree, covered in dripping wards painted in Castiel's blood. Dean is half-afraid that the branches are going to clamp shut at any moment and squeeze the life out of him. He thinks that there's no way he'll be able to sleep like this, but he's so exhausted that he passes out as soon as he closes his eyes.

Dean opens his eyes, and yelps in surprise. He's half-hanging off the branch, and his brain is telling him that he should be hurtling to the ground, but he's not. He scrambles into a more secure position, and sees Cas, leaning against a neighbouring branch, staring at him, heavy-lidded and unfocused.

"Dude, how long was I like that?" Dean asks.

"Several hours," Cas answers.

"And you were just holding me up the whole time?"

Cas shrugs, and nods.

"You're supposed to be saving your mojo for important stuff," Dean snaps, annoyed, because Purgatory wears Cas out, and he doesn't like to think about how long they'd survive without the angel's powers. Bleeding for the sigils drains him enough.

"So next time I'll just let you fall?" Cas says, and there's no sarcasm to his tone, just exhaustion.

Dean doesn't know what to say to that, because Cas has got a point, but Dean thinks his annoyance is well-justified. He settles on rolling his eyes. "Just… get some rest yourself, okay? I'll keep watch."

Cas nods, closes his eyes, and lets his chin drop to his chest.

Dean's gaze flits around uneasily. He's not certain if he sees monsters creeping through the dark or if it's his mind playing tricks on him. He shifts nervously and reminds himself that the wards will keep the monsters at bay. He wishes he found himself more convincing.

He looks back at Cas, who's listing dangerously towards one side. He slips a little further-

Dean leans over and his arms shoot out to grab Cas by the lapels of his coat, almost falling out of the tree himself as he catches Cas just in time. Cas jerks awake, and his expression registers momentary shock before settling into tired resignation, as if thinking, _of course, why would I be allowed respite now?_

Dean sighs wearily, and wishes he had some rope. But Cas really needs to sleep.

"Come here," Dean says. Cas just blinks at him. "C'mon," he repeats, and beckons with his hand.

Cas shifts until he's sitting in the crook of the tree, facing Dean. "Turn around," Dean instructs him. Cas does as he's told. "Lean on me."

Cas settles with his back against Dean's chest, as if there's nothing strange at all about doing so. Which is probably for the best, Dean thinks, keep things straight-forward and hassle-free.

He wraps his arms around Cas to hold him in place, and the angel nods off again almost immediately. His hair is soft against Dean's cheek, but Dean doesn't think about that. He doesn't miss having a fire anymore, because Cas is warm and heavy.

For a moment, Dean thinks that he could fall asleep again, like this. But then something howls, and Dean thinks he hears snarling at the base of the tree. He stays alert until Castiel wakes.


	6. The Fall

The chasm opens up out of the fog as if from nowhere. Dean can't make out an end to it in either direction, or a way across. He turns to Cas.

"We could try to find a way around?"

The angel shakes his head. "I'd rather not stray off course."

Dean nods. That would make this one of those important occasions that Cas has been saving his waning powers for. "Okay, then."

By the time Dean has braced himself, he and Cas are already across. Cas wobbles on his feet.

"You okay, man?" Dean asks.

"My first impulse is to lie and say, 'yes,'" Castiel answers. "But in the interest of honesty and communication: no." He sways and blinks. "Just give me a minute."

Dean watches his friend nervously, reaches to take him by the arm. "Let's just step away from the ledge, okay?"

Cas lets himself be led towards the tree-line. "I don't like to make you worry."

Dean considers telling Cas that his distracted rambling makes him worry, but decides against it. Instead he says, "We're stuck in Purgatory. 'Worried' is pretty much my default setting."

Cas gives him a lop-sided smile. "Touche."

It's then that Dean notices nearly a dozen sets of glowing eyes staring out at them from the trees.

Dean draws the angel blade just as a beast comes flying at him, and slashes it's throat. The fighting falls into a familiar rhythm, no thought, just instinct. Cutting, stabbing, surviving.

In his periphery, Dean keeps track of Castiel's position. The angel isn't zapping all over the place, but periodic flashes of light tell Dean that Cas is holding his own. Dean is also aware that the monsters are pushing them towards the chasm. He pushes back.

Dean thinks he's killed (as much as the things can be killed) the last monster and turns to see how Cas is doing, when a creature barrels into him, claws digging into his chest, pinning him to the ground. It takes all of Dean's strength to hold the thing's gnashing teeth away from his face.

"Cas! A little help here!"

Dean fumbles with the angel blade with one hand, while bracing his other arm against the thing's throat. He clumsily drives the blade through the thing's chest, and it dissolves.

Dean lies still for a moment, catching his breath. He sits up. He's alone.

"Cas?" Dean calls out as he gets to his feet. No answer.

A sick feeling settles in Dean's gut as he makes his way to the chasm, and looks over the edge. He can't see the bottom. He keeps looking anyways, as if by staring he can intimidate the darkness into revealing its secrets. And for a second, the walls of the cavern are illuminated. By the kind of light that would come from an angel smiting a monster. Or from something else happening to an angel.

"Cas!"

No answer.

Dean's instincts tell him that he should keep moving. _We need to head towards the centre_, Cas had said. _We'll find the gate there._

He looks over his shoulder towards the woods. They seem darker than before.

He sits down to wait for Cas.

* * *

It's been several hours, and the sky is starting to darken.

It's getting harder and harder for Dean to ignore the part of his brain that's telling him, _Cas could be dead. What then? You need to figure out how you're going to get to the gate. You need to deal with this. _

"No. No, I don't have to deal, because Cas is coming back."

Dean realizes he's talking to himself.

_So maybe Cas fell off that ledge. That doesn't mean he's not fine. He just needs some time to recharge, and then he'll zap back here._

Dean doesn't think about what would have happened had he gotten stuck in Purgatory by himself. He doesn't think about getting up and making his way through those woods alone. Or about the exhaustion, or the cold, or the loneliness. He doesn't.

Dean draws the angel blade across his palm, drips some symbols onto the ground around him. He doesn't know if the wards will work as well with human blood as with angel blood. But this is as good a time as any to find out.

* * *

Dean stays up all night. By the time what passes for a sun rises, blood red in the sky, Dean isn't trying to fool himself anymore. _Okay. So I'm alone._

He takes a breath. He doesn't cry.

_You need to get up, Dean. You need to keep going. Sam's waiting for you. _

And Dean is about to get up, he is. He plants his hands on either side of him to push himself off the ground, but his muscles ache in protest. He's tired. Not just from the past night, but from everything. He's tired, and he's lonely.

Dean stays where he is.

* * *

Dean wakes up several hours later.

He figures it won't hurt if he waits a little while longer.

* * *

Castiel wakes up in darkness, lying on cold stone.

His senses are sharp enough that he can still see his surroundings. He looks around and realizes that he's at the bottom of a narrow chasm, walls of stone pressing in on him, a sliver of light far above. He also sees the silhouettes of wings seared into the ground on either side of him, confirming what he already suspected. Castiel has woken from death enough times now to recognize the feeling.

Castiel knows that the monster souls can't die in Purgatory, so maybe the same is true of him? But Castiel is neither a soul nor a monster. Perhaps his Father intervened again, though Purgatory is not His realm.

He's alive, at any rate. He supposes it doesn't matter how.

Castiel feels a tug at the core of his being. Something that says to him without words, _C__ome back to me_, or maybe, _C__ome home_. It makes him feel like he's missing a piece of himself.

He turns his gaze upwards, and spreads his wings.

* * *

Dean hears the rustle of wings, and is on his feet and turning towards the sound even before it's followed by a familiar, "Hello Dean."

Cas is there, and he might be missing the suit and tie, he might be different now, but this hasn't changed: he comes back. He's still _Cas_, and he _came back_.

"Ha!" Dean exclaims, equal parts triumph and relief, and is about to follow it up with an "I told you so," but then he realizes that he'd be talking to himself again, and that's a little weird. Instead he exhales something between a chuckle and a sigh, and beams at his friend.

"Dude, you have _got_ to stop doing that."

"My apologies," Cas says with a fond smile. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Nah," Dean says with a wave of his hand. "Come on, let's go."


	7. Decay

Creatures don't die in Purgatory, not really. They attack, and fight, and tear each other apart, cannibalize each other. And then they're reborn, less human, more corrupted every time.

Dean tries not to think that the same is true of him, that every time he was resurrected he's been less human, more of a simple killer. He tries not to think of it, because he believes that it's true.

It never occurs to Castiel to think that way. Instead of stripping him down to some primal creature, every death has left him more confused as to what, exactly, he is.


	8. Regeneration

It's not just the souls of monsters that kill each other for all eternity, but the world itself. Purgatory spills out it's guts, devours them, and regenerates, parts growing back different than they were before.

Sometimes Dean falls asleep in a forest, and wakes up on a rocky plateau. After about a month, the ever-changing landscape doesn't unnerve him as much, though he's still vaguely worried about waking up at the bottom of a lake.

Cas assures him that that won't happen.

Castiel knows this place, and it knows him. Which means that Purgatory targets his weaknesses, drains him and wears him down. But it also means that Castiel can see past the physical landscape. He can see the paths radiating from the centre of Purgatory, the path to the gate that will take him and Dean home.


	9. Falling Apart

It takes Dean and Cas six months to make it to the outskirts of the settlements. The monsters look closer to human here, but are no less deadly, and the building is packed with them.

After six months, Dean is used to fighting. It lets him escape, to not think about his situation, just act. And there's a satisfaction that comes with slashing through the hoards of creatures, with knowing that Cas has his back, and working seamlessly as a team. These days, Dean finishes a fight with a smile on his face.

They clear out the building, honeycombed with apartments (and Dean thanks whoever's listening for the fact that it's been months since Cas last rambled on about bees), and choose the least decrepit one to spend the night.

While Cas is painting the crumbling walls with wards, Dean paces the room. There's a narrow, dusty palate for sleeping, a rickety table, and a single chair with a broken leg, but otherwise the room is bare. He looks out the window at the decaying settlement, buildings packed close together, vaguely humanoid creatures staring out of the shadows with glowing eyes, and finds that he's looking forward to tomorrow.

He's looking forward to the next fight, the next burst of adrenaline coursing through his body. There's a simplicity to life here - the goal is survival and that's it - that Dean doesn't hate. And with each passing month, Dean has had to admit to a greater possibility that they'll never make it out. And the thought bothers Dean, it does - because Sammy's waiting for him, he has to get back to his brother - but it also kind of doesn't.

Purgatory is made of decay and corruption, the building he's in is falling apart around him, but Dean feels more whole, more alive, than he has in years.

Cas is finished with the wards and leans, weary, against the wall. Dean smiles at him, because that's the other thing he enjoys about fighting: that after six months of fighting side-by-side every day, he and Cas fit. They can sense each other's movements, predict what the other is going to do, and what they're going to need. It's that sense of connection that keeps Dean going, that makes each battle feel like an awesome feat, instead of a grim bid for survival.

Cas smiles back, tired but fond.

It suddenly seems to Dean like the most logical thing he can do is go to Castiel and kiss him. He doesn't examine the thought, because this is Purgatory, there's no one to judge him, and he might not even make it out alive, so what does it matter? He does it.

Cas kisses him back, and this too fits. Dean feels whole, and alive.

* * *

Castiel ends each day a little more tired than the day before. Then Dean kisses him, and the touch of Dean's lips does something to him, makes him feel things he didn't know he could, and he doesn't know what it means, but it must mean something. The touch of Dean's lips breaks him apart, but he doesn't care. Purgatory is slowly killing Castiel, but he doesn't care.


	10. Eyes

Dean just knows that there are things that come out of hiding when he's not looking. He gets this tingle down his spine, like that rock is looking at him funny, or that tree is laughing at him behind his back.

"Just ignore them," Cas says.


	11. Giant

It looks like something massive plowed through the forest, snapping not just branches but entire trees, trampling them into a wide path.

Cas assures Dean that whatever it was is long gone.

An awful, booming wail rings through the air, making the trees shudder, their leaves shaking loose and falling to the earth.

"You sure about that?" Dean asks.


	12. Sisters

They were sisters in life. Then one got turned, and she turned the other. They were sisters in their second life as monsters as well.

Death was the only thing that separated them. They searched for each other in Purgatory until they were reunited. They are sisters in death, in eternity.

Dean sees them from a long way off, thinks it strange that there are two souls that aren't ripping each other's throats out. There's something about them that makes him want to stay and watch, and makes him want to hurry away and never look back.

Castiel looks at them and knows their story, as he knows all the souls in Purgatory.


	13. Rest

"It's actually kinda nice here," Dean says, lagging behind to look around. The foliage in this part of the forest is white and translucent, creating the sense of being in a cloud.

"It's deceptive," Castiel replies. He casts his gaze about suspiciously, feeling an ancient magic pressing at the edges of his being.

He turns to see Dean standing in a spot of dappled sunlight, face tilted towards the canopy.

"We can't slow down, Dean. And you need to stay close," Castiel reminds him sharply. He doesn't bother to hide his annoyance, because Dean ought to remember what happened the last time they were separated.

Dean sighs. "I know." He starts ambling towards Castiel at a leisurely pace. He yawns. "It's just, I'm tired man. Can't we rest here? Just for a little while?"

It's tempting. Castiel can feel an aching weariness seeping into him. And this is the first pleasant spot that he and Dean have encountered. Even the sound of a babbling creek nearby seems to whisper, _Stay, stay, stay_.

Castiel looks at Dean, and thinks that lying down next to him and never moving again wouldn't be a bad thing.

_But I promised myself, I promised Dean_, he remembers. He shakes his head as if doing so will clear the magic away.

"No. We need to keep going." He grabs Dean by the arm, and starts walking again, but Dean is dragging his feet.

"Oh, come on!" the man wheedles.

Castiel considers flying them out of there. But he doesn't know how long this stretch of forest goes on for, and if its magic is still effecting him when he lands, then he really will be too tired to go on.

Castiel looks at Dean intently, trying to get through to him. "You must remember, _Sam_ is waiting for you." Dean blinks, and some of the sleepy haze fades from his eyes. "We _need_ to keep going."

Dean nods absently. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He sets off again, determination in his stride.


	14. A Dangerous, Deadly Encounter

Dean was not expecting to see anything like this in Purgatory. Yeah, it was a monster, but it was short with over-sized feet and doe-eyes. It's yellow horns curled in towards each other to form almost a heart-shape, and it was_ pink_. It held a weird, green flower in one child-like hand.

"Hey there, li'l fella! Whatcha got there?"

The pink thing extended it's arm further, offering the spiky green flower to Dean. It blinked shyly.

"Dean! Get back!" he heard Castiel shout, and suddenly the angel was between him and the monster, pressing a hand to the monster's skull.

A horrific, gurgling scream erupted from the thing's beak, and it collapsed to the ground, face charred, eyes burned from their sockets.

Dean boggled at Cas. "Dude. Really?"

"It was about to attack," Cas said, matter-of-factly.

Dean took another look at the smouldering corpse. The pudgy little hand that had been gripping the flower gently uncurled, and the strange plant wilted towards the ground.

He shifted his gaze back to Castiel, staring at him incredulously.

Cas' expression remained deadly serious. "You need to be more careful."


	15. The Face

They pass another cottage at one point, but this time Dean gives it only a passing glance before striding on, muttering under his breath about creepy-ass taxidermists.

This time, it's Castiel who stops.

He hears a clicking, a whining from the shadowy archway. He turns.

* * *

Dean has a small moment of panic when he realizes that Cas isn't besides him anymore. He isn't much calmed when he whirls around and sees his friend standing as if frozen in front of the yellowed cottage.

"Cas?" he calls out.

Castiel doesn't answer, just tilts his head and narrows his eyes at the doorway. Dean jogs over to him.

"Cas, wha-" His eyes pass over the entrance to the cottage, and he does a double-take. A pale, mask-like face is suspended there, with wide, empty eyes.

Castiel's voice is unnervingly calm when he says, "It's trying to tell us something."


	16. Eve

Dean is asleep when Eve appears at the edge of their campsite.

"You can't be here," Castiel says, thinking that he's seeing things again.

The firelight plays across her pale skin, makes her dark eyes glow like coals. "I am a Mother of creation. Did you think that I could truly be killed?"

"Death comes for us all," he returns, warily.

There's a proud tilt to her chin when she answers. "Yes, and he will come to me in person when he does. Not through a mere human."

Castiel's eyes flit towards Dean.

"Oh, he won't wake until I've gone," she mentions casually.

Castiel tenses. His gaze tracks Eve as she paces along the border of the campsite, not passing through the wards that he'd drawn on nearby trees. He takes a few slow, deliberate steps to stand between her and Dean.

"Why are you here?" he asks, his voice approaching a growl.

She crosses the wards. Castiel shifts to a defensive stance.

"Not to kill you," she says with a patronizing smile, still walking towards him.

He doesn't move, doesn't blink. They're standing face-to-face.

"You can keep tearing through the souls of my children," she says, and there's something angry and vindictive under her calm exterior. "But after what you did to us, we will never let you go. You can battle through this realm for a hundred years, a thousand years, and we will _never_ let you go."

Castiel squares his shoulders and stares her down. "I will not let Dean Winchester be trapped here."

"Oh, he doesn't matter," she says with a small laugh. "You can take him right up to the gate yourself." Eve steps even closer, her voice turning soft and gentle. "You can watch him cross over. Catch a glimpse of home." She whispers, "But _you_ will be ours forever."

Eve turns from him, and walks away. Castiel keeps his eyes fixed on her as she goes, and doesn't start trembling until she's out of sight.


	17. This Is Not Redemption

At first Castiel thought that being in Purgatory might be a kind of penance, but it hasn't felt that ways so far.

The place weighs on him, a constant reminder of his guilt. After all, these souls were there with him when he went to Heaven, claimed the place of his father, and slaughtered so many of his kin. These souls bore witness to his wrath on earth, as he took the lives of so many humans, so confident that he was doing the right thing. He _used_ these souls, burned them up. And now, in their own realm, while he can't truly kill them, Castiel is still a force of destruction.

He thinks that he may be able to relieve his guilt with pain. If he were to surrender, lie down, let these creatures tear him apart until the ends of time. It would be as easy as it would be just.

But he can't leave Dean.

Not only because Castiel swore to Dean that they'd find a way out. And not only because he owes Dean for what he did to him, or because he owes Dean for the renewed trust and camaraderie that he has begun to show towards Castiel. Even a renewed sense of friendship, despite everything.

Castiel can't leave Dean because he doesn't want to, couldn't make himself want to if he tried. Not now that he appreciates how precious and fragile this friendship is. And Castiel knows that he doesn't deserve it, but he is _not_ letting it go.

On rare occasions the two of them are somewhere safe and sheltered, and there is a fire to keep the ever-present chill of Purgatory at bay. Castiel is exhausted from fighting and flying and bleeding for protection wards, and the place itself draining him of power. But Dean is exhausted as well, dead on his feet, so Castiel says he'll take first watch. And when Dean wakes up, on those rare occasions, he tells Cas to get some rest, and _smiles_.

He feels so grateful, so _glad_ that Dean is there with him.

And then Castiel feels guilty for that, too.


	18. Taedium Vitae

After two and a half days in Purgatory, Dean and Castiel find a copse of trees growing close together, forming a protective circle around a few square feet of forest floor. Castiel says that once he paints wards on the trees it should provide sufficient shelter for them to rest a while. Dean doesn't question him; he needs to sleep and this is the first chance he's gotten. He lies down, balls up his coat under his head, and is asleep before Castiel can tell Dean that he'll keep watch.

Dean wakes to the sound of snarling and yapping. He springs to his feet. Peering between the tree trunks Dean sees a mass of shadowy creatures prowling around the copse, waiting.

Dean's first thought is, _Oh crap_, followed by, _Why the hell didn't Cas wake me up earlier?_ He turns to ask the angel just that, and finds his answer. Cas is sitting on the ground, propped against a tree, fast asleep. _Oh crap._

"Hey!" Dean shakes him by the shoulder. "Cas! Wake up!"

Castiel's eyes snap open. searching and confused.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asks.

"I... I don't know." Cas gets to his feet, brow furrowed with concern. "I fell asleep..."

"Yeah, I noticed that."

Castiel doesn't offer further explanation, his expression worried and introspective.

"Are you out of juice, or what?" Dean prompts.

"No. Not entirely, anyways." Castiel lifts his face to meet Dean's gaze. "It must be Purgatory itself. It effects my powers."

"Can you zap us out of here?"

"I don't think I'm strong enough to carry you with me. Not without being useless for hours afterwards."

Dean takes a moment absorb the information, then sighs. "Great. That's just... great." He shakes his head. "Well, here's something to cheer you up: the welcoming committee finally caught up to us." He nods towards the monsters beyond the trees.

Castiel turns to look, and Dean sees his shoulders sag defeatedly. A few seconds later, though, the angel draws himself to attention, posture ramrod-straight and soldier-like. Dean allows himself to feel a bit of relief. Seeing his friend's old behaviours and mannerisms resurface has been Dean's one source of comfort since they found themselves in Purgatory. _Thank God - or whoever - for small miracles_.

"So, what's the plan?"

Castiel doesn't turn to face him when he answers. "I'll draw them off. You head towards the settlements."

"Okay..." Dean considers it. Assuming Cas' wings hold out, the angel should be able to stay out of reach of the pack. "I guess there's something to be said for simplicity." Cas still has his back to Dean, so Dean steps forward to stand next to him. "You'll be able to find me later?"

Castiel doesn't answer, just purses his lips casts his gaze downwards.

Dean feels like someone poured ice water down his spine.

"Cas?"

"I'm a target, Dean." Cas finally looks at him, blue eyes wide and imploring. "I'm the one they're after. As long as you're with me, you're in danger."

When Dean speaks he's breathless, like the wind's been knocked out of him. "You're kidding me." The corner of his mouth twitches up, some defensive reflex telling him to smile, like it's all a joke to him anyways.

Castiel's voice is firm, his mind made up. "The best chance you have of staying alive and getting somewhere remotely safe is if I-"

"No."

"Dean-"

"No, I'm _done_ with losing you, Cas!" Dean yells, over a year's worth of anger and frustration in his voice, and it shocks Castiel into silence. "Losing you to god-hood, and leviathans, and whatever the hell's going on in your head! And now this?" A snarl curls Dean's lip. "I swear, if you leave me again, then so help me, I'll..."

He imagines being alone, knowing that Cas could've been with him.

"I'm gonna..."

And it makes him feel so tired.

"I'm just done," Dean says, his voice soft and bitter.

Castiel's mouth hangs slightly open in surprise, and his gaze is heavy with regret before his eyes flit away from Dean's face towards the ground. Dean wishes he wasn't so familiar with that look on Cas' face.

"I'm not getting out of here without you," Dean says, and he's not sure whether it's a threat or a promise, but it's the truth. His voice is shaking, but he doesn't care.

Cas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again he looks calm and contemplative. He turns his attention back to the creatures on the other side of the trees.

"Cas...?"

The angel turns to Dean, sharp and resolute. "We need a new plan," he says matter-of-factly.

Dean huffs out a relieved laugh. He blinks away the wetness in his eyes and nods. "Yeah, we do."


End file.
